Origins: Team X
by Goddess of Destiny
Summary: Series of one shots inspired by the characters shown in the movie X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Includes Agent Zero, John Wraith, Fred Dukes, Bradley Bolt, Emma Frost, Remy Gambit LeBeau, Wade Deadpool Wilson and more. It expands upon the characters only given glances to in the movie, drawing from the comicverse and enriching the Origins experience
1. Agent Zero: Cutting Deeper

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the X-Men franchise, neither the comics nor the movies. If I did, the movies would be greatly more character oriented than they have shown to be...

**Author's Note: **Which segues nicely into the purpose of this fanfic... Which is I had a few one shots in my head based on X-Men Origins: Wolverine that bring in a bit more of the comic book aspects to the characters that mostly be brushed over and overlooked. Since this month is my absolute best friend's, lucky's girl, birthday, I decided to actually write them up and post them! Because it's her fault I've watched Origins oh so many times and know these characters inside and out. So happy birthday, dear!

This first I actually find the most fascinating because doing research on Agent Zero, or Chritoph Nord, he's a really deep, fascinating character. It's really sad that all he's shown as is the loyal guard dog who shoots on command. There's a whole lot more to it than that, so this is my interpretation of when comic verse meets movie verse.

* * *

Agent Zero: Cutting Deeper

_"Who's your employer?"_

_"You don't have the _guts_. A defenseless woman? In cold blood?"_

Even in the stale dark, Nord could hear the gun fire as she came at him with the knife. The spray of red from Ginetta Barsalini's chest was painted on his mind's eyes. And the 'cold blood' of it went as deep of his bones. He couldn't feel chillier, even years past the event.

Still, coming after him with a knife? Barsalini wasn't so defenseless.

Even if he hadn't defended himself, though, Nord had to admit the betrayal cut deeper. Might as well have carved him heartless.

Nord sighed and stretched out the tired muscles in his back, checking on the ammo in the pistol clenched in his hand. It was mostly there for comfort. If Nord felt like escaping this place it'd be in his best interest to dive out of a window and deal with the injuries. Fighting wasn't really an option.

Then again, every option really meant leaving his employer behind. Since William Stryker was in a meeting in the other room, not allowed to bring his bodyguard inside. Of course Oyama Kenji was 'kind' enough to leave his own bodyguards outside… Like that did much. Still meant they were between Nord and Stryker should something go wrong. And as this was Oyama's home, he had the upper hand.

But Nord still wasn't sure Stryker had anything he wanted. He still played along with this Team X thing merely out of amusement. And supplies. He was given his choice of so many gadgets that he was sure if he'd had this opportunity years ago, he would have found out who hired Barsalini right off the bat. Instead he was forced to be patient, wait for Stryker to be done with him…

Men like Stryker were never done though. Nord knew that when he first agreed. He hadn't done it impulsively, either. He was looking to build himself up out of the mess, out of the emotions… Stryker promised that and delivered immediately. He didn't ask for trust, only loyalty. It didn't matter for what reason, either. So long as Nord's gun didn't end up trained at the back of Stryker's head, Nord continued to get what he wanted.

Good enough for him.

The door to the conference room opened and Nord jumped to his feet, replacing the cartridge back into the pistol. But the two business men were bowing and shaking hands, everything definitely having gone well. Considering that grin and shine in Stryker's eyes that he wore well. Remembered it from the seedy bar where he'd managed to track Nord, the moment he agreed to joining his little team.

Never saw a man so pleased to have things go his way. Made Nord decide that if he was happy enough just to have his team pulled together, and obviously so, what was the point in betrayal? So he continued to serve. Wasn't like he had anything better to do.

"Got what you wanted I assume?" Nord spoke up once they were led out of the Oyama Estate and were away from surveillance.

"No," Stryker chuckled. "But I know it exists. So tonight… we're going to take it."

"Ah." Nord was completely passive on the outside but inside he really was amused. Of course Stryker would be arrogant enough to assume they could pull that off without consulting first. But he knew Nord's strengths and weaknesses. He never asked anything of any of his men that they couldn't do. "I can do that," he agreed, spinning the pistol on his finger.

"Good. Let's get started."

* * *

**AN: **Oyama Kenji (written in the traditional Japanese way of family name first) is Yurko, aka Deathstrike's father. He's the one that developed how to bond adamantium to a skeleton. So he's just a nice little Easter egg thrown in here


	2. Wraith: Kestrel and the Lark

**Disclaimer: **They are not mine... but I wish they were!

**AN: **For those of you wondering... the title has absolutely nothing to do with the story. Other than the fact that John Wraith's code name was Kestrel. Otherwise... it's an inside joke, Chers. Don't worry your pretty little head about it.

* * *

Wraith: Kestrel and the Lark

John Wraith wasn't surprised by the knock on the door like a normal person might be. His thoughts didn't immediately run to 'who the hell would be coming to see me?' Even though the hour was quite late and John didn't exactly have any friends. Several enemies so he doubted very much they would be _knocking_.

No, instead his thoughts were 'who the hell got past all my traps?'

A man highly paranoid, John had traps set up all around his house. His favorite were 'shaped charges' which blew on contact. So it was doubtful anybody could get past all of that without him noticing. Unless they were lucky. Very lucky, since he'd just lost a really terrible bet so was anticipating retaliation since he couldn't pay the money. Because of that, his defenses had gone up.

The knock came again. A disciplined 'tap, tap, tap, tap' almost a complete copy of the first. Maybe it was a solicitor? A very lucky solicitor…

Which put him in the mind of government. Not something John wanted to get wrapped up in. So quietly he sat his beer down moving to slip out the back door. Only when he was certain nobody was looking was he willing to teleport. Right now who knew what kind of surveillance these guys had. Definitely had enough skills to sneak past his defenses.

He snatched up his hat and coat from the coat rack on his way to the back door, eyes watching every conceivable way people might break in. Almost made him consider heading out a window. But there was no way to know if _all_ of his defenses had been taken down. Without that, he was just as likely to blow himself up as unwanted guest sneaking out a window.

His hand fell on the backdoor handle, tearing his gaze from the front door where that careful knocking was sounding for a third time. Just as John was turning it to pull it open, somebody on the outside was pushing _in_.

Panicking, John considered for half a second 'porting away. Even if he did get spotted, it was better than being caught.

But then cold black eyes were trained on him, the cold barrel of a gun pressed to his forehead. No way John was out 'porting a bullet at that range.

"Sorry, friend," the Asian man spoke calmly, his voice devoid of any real apologetic tone. "But my employer really wanted to speak with you, so I've been asked to remind you how to open your front door."

John frowned deeply, taking in the man's well pressed pure black suit and the holsters on his belt. Another gun waiting to be drawn at a second's notice if need be. So even if John were to think of dodging a bullet and taking the gun, there'd still be a threat against him.

"Think you can do that?" the man added with a hiss, pressing the gun further into John's head, making him tilt back away from the cool surface.

"Fine, fine," John muttered, holding up his hands in surrender. When the man took the pressure off even just a miniscule amount, John turn slowly to head back to his front door. He was aware of the other man's presence the entire way.

After undoing just under a half dozen locks, simple and intricate, on the door, John pulled it open an inch. He swallowed, mouth and throat completely dry as he took in the man dressed in a military suit. Definitely government. And that was one of the last things John wanted to see showing up on his doorstep.

He felt frozen in his doorway, taking in the tall, greying man with his simple smile. He pulled off his sunglasses as John looked at him, beady eyes staring back with faux-compassion. Just behind him was a much shorter man that didn't look like he belonged here. Except for a faint blue glow to his eyes that John was pretty sure had to do with a mutation.

_Shit._ Wasn't any of the ordinary stuff John got called out for. This was for being a freakin' mutie. Last thing he wanted.

"Zero," the man said, like he was scolding a child. "Put the gun away."

Surprisingly, the Asian didn't hesitate a second. He snapped up to his full height and holstered the weapon with a satisfying 'clip.' That particular pressure off, John didn't quite feel like sweating himself into a nervous puddle. Still wasn't entirely sure what to make of all of this.

"I apologize, Agent Zero can be a little… overzealous," the man said to John this time. "May I come in?"

John didn't move. Now that there wasn't a gun directly pointed at his back, he was feeling just a bit more certain that he could get out of this. And since he could, he didn't want to let anybody else in. They could have this conversation at the door. He did reach up and tilt his hat back a little. The only friendly gesture he was willing to make.

"Very well." The soldier didn't seem too put out by being denied as he pocketed his glasses. "Son, my name is Major William Stryker. I have come to tell you that I know who you are, John Wraith, and if you want… you no longer need to hide."

"Yeah?" John said, speaking up for the first time. "An' what exactly was it you had in mind?"

A careful smirk shaped the Major's face. John couldn't help but feel like he was facing down the look a snake might get once it's bit its prey and now simply had to wait patiently to devour and digest its supper.

Or he was over paranoid. But John had always lived by the saying you could never be too careful.

* * *

**AN: **Love how I just carelessly threw Bradley in there? Yeah, apparently my creativity does not include doing anything creative with him right now. But as I was enjoying Zero so much he had to play a major part in Wraith's piece. Also, don't ask me what 'shaped charges' are. They were just mentioned often on Wraith's wiki page


	3. Frost: The Diamond Girl

**Disclaimer: **Do not own...

**AN: **Emma Frost has got to be one of my all time favorite characters in the comics by now... Watching her in the films feels like taking a knife to the gut. So this is my attempt to fix up the character portrayal from the Origins movie... I won't even _try_ to repair the damage done in First Class.

* * *

Frost: The Diamond Girl

The chemicals were appalling. But then again, Emma Frost's whole apartment was at all up to par to her usual standards. Walking out on her family's fortune, however, tended to lend itself to squalor. Until she could get her feet better under her and find a better way to make money. Being a psychic really made it simple to exploit money for what she wanted. And while Emma had no problem manipulating people to her advantage, she wanted something more stable.

She was far too used to wealth, power, and comfort. Already she was aching for a mani-pedi and Emma really had no idea how people got by before the technology age. The five channels she could get on her box of a television didn't do it for her, let alone the lack of phone and computer.

The one 'luxury' she was allowing herself was a cheap hair treatment to make herself go blonde. But that was also a necessity. To hide from the people bound to be looking for her. Not just her family who she doubt forgot about her so easily. But those damn fools that figured out she was a mutant.

Testing the bleach in her hair with one hand, Emma stared down at the skin of her other arm. Like she expected diamonds to spontaneously combust out of her skin again… Likely they would. But it just wasn't heard of, she didn't think. A secondary mutation? Here she thought she'd gotten lucky with the telepathy. _That_ was something one could hide from the public. Use it for her own hidden, secret designs and damn the consequences. Because unless she ran into another psychic like that foolish girl, nobody would know.

This though… Well _obviously_ people noticed when you turned into solid diamond and a falling building _didn't_ kill you. Oh yes, Emma was _quite_ pleased about these turns of events.

The buzzer to her apartment rang and Emma sighed in frustration, casting out mentally to discover who disturbed her. While she was still a bit shaky about her abilities, she thought she might convince them they're worst fear was coming to past. What did it matter to her if it went horribly wrong? Wouldn't be the first time she scrambled somebody's mind. But that girl was asking for it, testing her abilities against Emma's.

She might have had more experience but Emma clearly was the more powerful telepath.

But just as Emma was discovering who it was mentally, the woman outside the door was knocking. "Emma. Emma, I know you're in there. Please let me in, it's Kayla."

Not realizing how she was reacting until she'd done it, Emma burst to her feet and strode to the door to open it. Sure enough her taller, more exotic older sister was standing there. They shared brunette hair –though not for long – and the same piercing blue eyes. But other than that, Emma felt they shared nothing. There was a reason why Father had chosen Emma to inherit the family wealth and not Kayla or their other sister. Emma was ruthless. Kayla was far too soft.

"Whatever you're selling, darling," Emma said coolly, "I don't want it."

Kayla regarded her with calm certainty. It was probably the only thing Kayla had that made her hard to read and actually caused Emma some discomfort in the past. The look reminded her of their mother, the only person able to stare down Father during one of his rages. With that same damn look, too. Emma retaliated against the man with likeminded anger.

Not Kayla. She knew where she stood and in just what trajectory she would find herself hurt. If it protected others, she might stand in the way. Emma wasn't sure if she had that sort of resolve.

Then again, she'd thrown everything Father tried to give her in his face because he refused to accept her brother. Who had always been Emma's favorite… and now he was dead…

It probably didn't count as selfless if it did no good for the person you did it for anymore. She was just being a rebellious, spoiled, selfish brat instead of simply a spoiled, selfish brat. And other than that near death thing, Emma was doing quite fine for herself. Really, she was.

"Father's dead," Kayla spoke up quietly.

"Ah." Emma pursed her lips, trying to decide what that meant to her. Then she realized… nothing. It meant nothing. He was dead to her the moment she left. "That's nice."

She began to shut the door but Kayla had enough stones to reach out and brace it open. "I've inherited the family fortune."

"I say again," Emma said icily, "That's nice, darling."

"Emma, you're not alone." The pleading tone was amplified by the emotions Emma was finding in her sister's head. That was probably the thing she hated most of telepathy, that just small pinch of empathy that came with it. When Emma had always prided herself on being a stone cold bitch, now she was forced to know how other's _felt_.

"Do you think it matters?" Emma snapped, picking up the memories Kayla obviously was trying to share. "That you can touch people and make them do what you want? We're not family anymore, darling. And I have things I need to get back to."

"You're wrong."

Emma was struck by the fact that Kayla wasn't reaching out to touch her. If it had been Emma trying to force her way into her sister's apartment, she would be using her power by now. Instead Kayla kept arguing the old fashioned way. What kind of mutant did she expect to be?

Sighing, Emma backed away from the door to give her sister room the enter. "Darling, you've got a lot to learn. But first, you're washing out my hair."

It was actually worth it to see Kayla's smile. It was such a rare thing back with their Father, to see Kayla smile. She'd worn the weight of their family much more painfully and darkly than the rest of them. Other than their brother… Their sister was all bitchy sunshine and backstabbing daisies, completely oblivious to how the real world operated. Only cared about the latest fashion trends and who she could bang next.

Now, Emma cared about those things too. But she knew how those things benefited her, not assumed they were the benefit in themselves.

Kayla had managed to become the tomboy of sorts. There were times when Emma even wondered if Kayla had a thing for girls. _One_ of the kids needed to since their brother definitely wasn't…

"Only you would figure you can help me more than I can help you," Kayla laughed.

"Oh, darling. It's sad you'd figure it any other way."

* * *

**AN: **I have yet to read the short lived Emma Frost solo series... but I read some stuff on the internet and I drew from that rather heavily for this story. The whole bit about the brother is from there. Emma also did have a sister who ended up being a mutant that inherited the family fortune... In the comics she was a betraying bitch. Clinging to movieverse, I made that sister Kayla. I didn't feel like going to look up names so the other siblings simply got referred to as 'brother' and 'other sister.' Sorry


	4. Dukes: She's a Gymnast

**Disclaimer: **My birthday isn't until May but Stan Lee, giving me the X-Men would make a wonderful present ;)

**AN: **I almost skipped poor little Freddie. I'm sorry Freddie! I really do love you! I just didn't have much creativity for you. Please forgive me!

* * *

Dukes: She's a Gymnast

It was strange for once not being the only man at the table – hell, the whole bar – that could order a bucket of beer. Not that Creed had stuck to their table for long. Something about Wade pissed him off and he apparently was looking to cause some trouble at the poker tables.

Which was fine with Fred Dukes. He wasn't the most sociable of guys but Wade didn't really get to him. Wasn't exactly friends either, but definitely got on better than him and Creed. It was Zero he tended to talk with the most but the little agent was off getting things prepared with Stryker. Something Wade had been teasing about earlier that actually got a laugh out of everybody.

Also seemed it was easiest to tease the one person that wasn't there. The moment you teased somebody actually present – especially one with claws – things started getting dicey.

Likely Wade would turn the pressure on to somebody else in a few minutes with his main target stalking around the betting, deciding which card game to sit in on. Maybe Logan since the two were brothers. But again there was that problem about claws. So Fred had this feeling things were going to turn on him soon and he turned his attention on guzzling his beer.

Might as well call it a pitcher, really. He was a big guy to start with. Tall and wide set. Then he went into the army and bulked out even more. With the addition of his mutation, Fred became quite a meaty man. Which meant a pitcher fit in his hand the same way a mug did in most others. And this was likely the only group of people he could drink with where that sort of thing wasn't weird.

After all, with his healing factor Logan could drink them all under the table and barely feel a tingle in his fingers. Fred wasn't sure if he envied or pitied the guy. Fred wasn't the type to drink for any reason other than pleasure. So it was usually when Wraith convinced them all to go out for drinks before and after mission that Fred went as well.

Rather glad he did, too, taking in the curvy woman moving up to the bar. He made a slight rumbling noise in his chest which apparently Wade took for assent on something. Setting him off on a rant about pirate hats…

"I'm going to get another beer," Logan grunted, standing up.

"I'll come with you," Wraith said just as quickly.

Didn't take much for Fred to realize he was being ditched at the table with blabber mouth. Probably realized it before Wade did. But since he was doing his usual talk-to-the-wall spiel, he wouldn't act like he cared for another five minutes.

Giving Fred free range to space out and watch the lady. Her skin tight red dress rode up so that it cupped her ass and not much more, leaving her almost all long, tan legs until her black high heel shoes. Beyond that, Fred wasn't sure he'd taken in any other details.

"Well." The one word snapped him out of his daze and Fred shut his mouth, turning to Wade. "You never answered my question."

"Didn't hear it," Fred grunted, chugging at his beer again.

Wade sighed, putting a hand to his forehead like he was speaking to a child. Or a dog. Then he gestured his hands to the woman Fred had been staring at.

"You going to ask her number or shall I beat it to you? It's really not like me to be so generous, Duksie, so jump on the offer while it lasts! But wait! Order in the next five minutes and you could receive a free turkey baster. That's right folks, Wade Wilson's limited edition _turkey baster_."

"Cram it," Fred said, shoving at the man's chest as he stood up to make his way across to the bar.

He spotted Logan and Wraith of the corner of his eye pausing in their conversation. Probably noticing Fred's direction. Either that or Creed was about to start some trouble at the poker tables. Not entirely unlikely. Logan was always dragging that man's ass out of a fire…

Fred cleared his throat. "So… come here often?"

The perfectly sculpted, cross legs swiveled on the stool and he became aware that he should be looking at her face. That, too, was rather nice to stare at with bright blue eyes and angular, red stained lips.

"Funny," she spoke in a thickly accent voice. Fred's shoulders began to drop. "And I was just thinking that I needed to get out of this dump. Walk a girl home, soldier?"

A grin spread across Fred's face and he immediately offered her an arm. The man that had been cozying up next to her gaped at the two and she barely gave him a wave before accepting the arm and sliding off the stool.

Laughter broke out behind Fred, likely from Logan and Wraith. But he didn't look back, staring down at the stunning woman _he_ was getting to walk home instead of that prick fuming at the bar. Oh yeah, tonight was Fred Duke's lucky night.

* * *

**AN: **Shame on my lazy self for not looking up Blob's tattoo to remember what the gal looks like... But yeah, I went that classic route of playing off the funny conversation between Fred and Logan:

Logan: Jesus, Fred. You only just met her

Fred: I love her

Logan: You love her? After one night?

Fred: She's a gymnast

(And yes folks, that was from memory)


	5. Gambit: Shadows and Daggers

**Disclaimer: **Marvel should be wary if I did ever own even a piece of it because it'd get so much heat for how it's handled my favorite character...

**AN: **No Origins party would be complete without some LeBeau. I've had this beginning image in my head for awhile now, actually, and kept trying to turn it into an AU Romy story. It wasn't working. It worked _real_ nice in this though so I'm happy. This is probably the longest one shot in the series.

* * *

Gambit: Shadows and Daggers

Adept fingers snatched the hat from Remy LeBeau's head before he really had time to react. Only real sign that it was happening was the brim dipping into his eyes, forcing him to blink longer. By the time his eyes were open, a warm body was sliding into his lap, relaxing her waist into his chest with familiarity. There were several wolf whistles around the poker table but despite a carefully prepared smirk, Remy ignored them all.

"Belle, chere," Remy said carefully, peaking at his cards in the pocket. Two Queens. Not bad. "What're y'doin here?"

The woman chuckled almost directly into his ear. Almost anybody watching would see it as a sensual laugh. But Remy knew it for what it was. It was cold as death. And considering Bella Donna Boudreaux was an Assassins daughter…

"Strange, I should be askin dat question," Bella murmured, running a finger over the curve of Remy's ear.

"Winnin' at poker," Remy laughed easily, raising the bet by another hundred. "Clearly."

There were low chuckles around the table as Remy had lost one hand and folded the next. But it was all part of the game. Had to wait patiently for the right time to strike. And considering his hand this time around, he was fairly confident his winning streak was just about to get started.

That was, if Bella wasn't here to ruin it all for him.

"I thought y'might like to see yo' wife, Remy," Bella responded, pulling out a sultry pout for the occasion.

Remy held back from correcting her by saying 'ex.' That wasn't really a fact he wanted to be throwing about his favorite poker table at his favorite bar. Especially not if Bella had any friends waiting around in the corners. Technically with the wedding turning… sour… Remy wasn't supposed to be in New Orleans at all. Though this little establishment wasn't under either Guilds jurisdiction so they couldn't immediately cause trouble based on his presence alone.

Now, if he started pushing the Patriarch's daughter around… well, that would be enough cause to start trouble. And Remy didn't want trouble. He wanted to drink, play poker, and maybe flirt with a few femmes. Might even take one of them up to his hotel room. All before he jumped on his bike and ran out of here for a few months. Find some jobs to keep his mind busy while he drank and gambled and flirted in other towns in other states.

But N'awlins was home, exile or no. Remy still liked to treat himself to the familiar every once and awhile. Could Bella really fault him for that?

She might. But Remy hadn't felt a dagger against his ribs yet, so he was feeling pretty lucky.

"Course I'd like to see y', Chere," Remy said with a casual wink, flipping his cards over. "Let me win a couple more hands and Remy'll do more than see y'though."

Bella's lips quirked up amused. She knew very well that Remy wasn't even bluffing. He'd gladly ditch all of these nameless, unknown femmes in the bar to have them revisit their old passion. And Remy would make it worth her time. He always did.

She was tempted, of course. Bella couldn't _not_ be tempted. But it wouldn't win Remy any points, bedding her. Just be a nice little distraction from the conversation she was clearly trying to have. She was amused that Remy would dare try and slip out of it by using his usual charm.

He shrugged to her unspoken message. It was worth a shot, no?

Her quiet laugh in reply said that, yes, it was worth a shot. But no, it wasn't happening. They'd both grown up too much, even in just the short amount of time, for that to be enough.

Besides, Remy couldn't help but think that Bella would spend just about as much time trying to kill him as sleep with him.

"I was t'inkin more along de lines of speaking, amour," Bella sighed, tilting her head back and letting her eyes shut a bit.

Remy wasn't fooled. Even with limited visibility, Bella could still act with lightning fast reflexes. He did take the time to resteal his hat, though. It was new. One of the first things he got after leaving the Guilds and he really didn't want Bella touching it. Maybe a tad unreasonable, but his life was separate from Bella's now. He really didn't want them over lapping. This little brush up was more than enough for him.

"Y've got moi full attention, ma Cherie." He checked his hand. Looked like he was drawing Spades. Not exactly a great omen considering the woman in his lap but he had a feeling that even if it wasn't the best hand, he could psyche the rest out enough to rake in a win. He checked the first go around but the next he'd triple the bet.

"Hmmm."

That was it. And Remy felt thoroughly screwed now. He managed to keep himself from tensing, since Bella would notice every shift in his body language. She'd probably be able to read him from a mile away, they knew each other that intimately.

Used to. Definitely past tense. Though there wasn't so much time between then and now that either of them had change all that much. But they were getting closer. There was this sharp look in Bella's eyes that Remy wasn't entirely sure he could read. And likely Bella had been a little caught off guard by him retaking his hat.

Little things that, if given the proper amount of time, would make them strangers by the time they saw each other again. _If_ they saw each other again. Remy really was getting high on getting out of here alive. But his track record on surviving impossible odds was rather strong and he doubted he wasn't a match for Bella.

Even if she was a trained assassin, worst she could do was knife in the ribs. That didn't necessarily have to be fatal. Remy knew how to stitch himself up…

His mind was working so hard on planning his escape, he almost missed his bet. He tripled it like he planned, the next man swearing and folding. Couple other guys pushed their lucks, which just helped spicen up the pot. Remy was grateful since this would likely be his last hand.

"Like Remy said, Belle, few more minutes and he's all yo's."

He was stalling like hell now and Bella knew it. But she was hesitating so might as well press his luck. He was hard pressed to keep his heart rate and breathing even as he waited for Bella to react. To do… something. But she continued to sit rather limp in his lap until the round was done and he'd definitely won.

Trying to seem casual about, Remy rose to his feet, slipping Bella onto her feet and reaching out for the bundles of cash to slip into his inside coat pocket. That done and still no sharp, shiny things piercing his side, Remy wound an arm about Bella's waist to lead her out. There were several farewells and a couple of women made pouting noises in their throats.

Once out in shadowed eave of the building, Bella rose to put her lips up next to Remy's ear and her knife to his side. "Be out of N'awlins by sunrise or don't leave at all," Bella growled, low. "S'yo' choice, Remy."

"Point is crystal clear. Ain't no need fo' toys," Remy huffed, brushing her off. Any other time he might have made it into a careless joke but there was too much history with Bella causing pressure for him to be so easy about it. He side stepped away from her, raising a hand in a wave without looking at her. "See y'around, Belle."

"Hmph."

Right. Real nice to know that the woman you married was so willing to kill you on first sight from now on. He'd rather suspected it'd go down that road eventually. It was why he didn't take her with when he was exiled, despite her begging him to take her. She'd end up hating him before too long. Only a couple months after killing her brother and she was already well on her way.

Yeah, it was definitely time to be heading out of New Orleans. Put this as far behind him as he could possibly muster and don't look back.

"Hey, pup."

"Merde," Remy muttered as he felt a hard jerk on the back of his trench coat, tossing him back into a wall.

"Careful what you snag onto. You might lose something."

All he caught was a slight glint on some dog tags as he fumbled to pull out his staff before the figure swung for his head. _Merde!_ Out of the frying pan and into the fire apparently. Remy ducked away, hearing a chunk of the wall actually get cleaved away. This man meant business.

"Don't know who y'are, homme, but y'picked de wrong person to mess wit'."

The man chuckled, baring fanged teeth as he swung around to face Remy again. He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? We'll just see about that…"

* * *

**AN: **It was tough trying to figure out the timeline because I knew I wanted to throw Sabey in at the end of it, just to connect it to Origins much more clearly. So that meant either Remy got captured before the wedding (not very plausible considering it was for two years) or the wedding already happened and he's exiled... in which case... really have to figure out how/why the hell he's in Nawlins when he ain't supposed to be. This is when the BS skills come into play and luckily Bella and Remy were real lovely about playing along with the circumstances. My inspiration for writing a fight scene... well, as you can see, I cut it off. -cheater-


	6. Deadpool: Oh look! A title!

**Disclaimer: **My talent is not in humor so I should never ever really be allowed to own Wade Wilson

**AN: **That being said... I've had this scene in my head for_ever_ and I really love how it turned out. I think it's funny... Lucky's girl will think it's funny. I think we're pretty set from there, really. This is the last one I've got prepared but I've got a couple more ideas I'm playing around with and I'll likely add to this in the future. So if you haven't already, review, favorite, watch. Preferably in that order.

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Deadpool: Oh look! A title!

He wanted one of those suckers.

No, screw that. Wade wanted _all_ of the suckers. He wondered if they'd let him walk out with them.

He wondered if they'd taste better if he killed everybody to take them.

He wondered a lot of things, actually, and Wade wasn't always aware of all of them. But mostly he sat there on the bed in the doctor's office waiting for the doc to return with the results. Pretty standard, boring crap.

_They didn't even let us bring our swords inside!_

"I know!"

Wade wasn't really aware that he was replying out loud. His outside voice pretty much sounded like his inside voice. Unless it was his other inside voice. That one didn't sound like his outside voice at all. But it didn't really matter to him as it was all the same in the end. And if this wasn't, for one, important enough to have all of his rapt attentions, Wade wouldn't be sitting still at all.

His health was one of those few things that Wade took seriously. As in… he didn't want to die. So if there was something killing him that he couldn't quick fix then he cared.

He cared enough to figure out what it was so that he could kill other people until he found the quick fix he needed. Or at least kill all those people he always wanted to kill before he died.

_I think we left our bucket list in our other pants._

"The ones the dry cleaner lost?"

_That'd be the ones…_

"Bastard! Well… he's first on the list." He cast around for a pen and pad of paper to write it down. But everything was immaculately clean and devoid of distractions for Wade. Though he was considering taking that little doctor hammer to hit on his knee. Or see what kind of weapon he could make out of it. That was always fun.

A few of those giant popsicle sticks could be useful too.

The door opened just as he was starting to push up to his feet. Distracted once again, Wade sat up straight and eyed the doctor gravely.

"Give it to me straight, Doc," Wade said, clasping his hands in his lap. "Is the baby going to live!?"

"I…" the white bearded man started before blinking. "What?"

"Oh, I can't bare the suspense!" Wade cried shrilly, holding up his hands and turning his head away. After a few seconds in that position he straightened up again and nodded to the doctor. "Line."

The doctor shook his head and cleared his throat, moving over to his stool to sit down. Of course it was only then that Wade realized he could have been racing around the room on the stool since it was on wheels. Missed chances and opportunities… Maybe he could be patient for two more minutes and _then_ he could zip up and down the halls…

"It's cancer, Mr. Wilson."

"No way!" Wade gasped. "It's not even June yet. How could the baby be a Cancer?"

"Mr. Wilson, there is no baby!" the doctor snapped impatiently. "I'm saying _you_ have cancer."

That actually struck Wade a little dumb for a moment. "How bad?"

"We can try chemo and other treatments," the doctor sighed, looking down at the file and adjusting his glasses. "And it's hard to say precisely but… I'd say only a few months."

_Well, this blows._

Oh, they could say that again. Most definitely. What the hell was Wade supposed to do about _cancer_? He couldn't do that whole… chemotherapy thing! Go bald, puke his guts out, get all pale and ugly… No, that just wasn't happening! How the hell was he supposed to go on killing rampages if his toenails were popping off painfully because of radiation?

"…where would you like to start, Mr. Wilson?"

Apparently Doc had been blabbering on while Wade wasn't paying attention. He blinked at the white bearded man, trying to come up with some colorful remark. But he felt rather stricken by his predicament. Wade didn't _feel_ like making jokes right now.

_That's right, even we get scared sometimes._

"I believe I can handle it from here."

The door pushed open again, startling the doctor. He jumped in his seat and had to readjust his glasses as William Stryker strode in like he owned the place. He only gave the doctor a nod before turning his sights on Wade.

"I know it's been a long time, but I'm here to help you, Wade," Stryker said in his fatherly type voice. Designed to trick you into loving and trusting him because of course he had the answers to everything. Then again, Wade had to admit… he did have the answers to a great number of things. "It's time to go home."

"After years of separation, Papa Stryker came striding back into my life, offering the key to my salvation. Was it worth the risk of getting screwed over by the slime ball or could I trust that the warm intentions were sincere and he really would help? In the end I really had to accept… I had nothing left to lose."

"What is he doing?" Zero snapped to Stryker in annoyance.

The colonel just smiled and turned around, leaving Wade to answer the obvious question.

"Voice over," Wade said, hopping to his feet. "Was I not doing a voice over to speed up the process of moving us from this scene to the next?" Zero rolled his eyes and pivoted to follow after Stryker. Everybody's a critic. "Guys? Guys! Oh well, maybe next movie."

_Didn't they cancel it?_

Dammit.

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**AN: **Who doesn't love breaking the fourth wall, huh? Sure the voiceover joke has been done to death by Deadpool and comedy shows the world over... but who could resist? And in case it wasn't real clear, this takes place after Logan has left the team but before Wade gets all Weapon-XI-y. The director of Origins said in the commentary that they were playing Wade before the cancer was in his body... blah blah blah. I still thought it was a neat idea that it popping up was what drove Wade to agree to Stryker's creepy experiments. I wouldn't even put it past Stryker to have caused Wade's cancer or at least made it worse/kept it hidden until he needed Wade for his purposes/etc.

So this is all I've got for now folks. Check back in the future when I decide to write a few more random bits and pieces. For bit characters that you only catch glimpses have/have only one line in the movie and I even have one Sabretooth idea which will likely wrap this series up. Review, favorite, watch. Thank you guys!


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